CHAPTER FOUR

Tony

 

“Tell me you’re cookin’ dinner tonight,” Hung said, flopping down on the lounge chair on the back porch where I sat painting, struggling to convey emotion I wasn’t feeling onto the canvas.

“Fuck,” I muttered and put the brush down.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to spoil your concentration,” Hung said.

I turned to look at him, brow raised.

“Jeovanni Adaulfo Mendoza apologizing for his behavior? Am I dreaming?”

“Oh, shut up. I’m not that bad, and I told you never to repeat my middle name.”

I grinned and turned back to study my work.

“No, you aren’t that bad,” I said sincerely.

Months of quiet watching in my early days in the club had taught me the cocky, sexy, Brazilian went much deeper than his off-color jokes and huge dick led most people to believe. When I’d figured that out, I’d slowly made the effort to get to know him and hadn’t regretted it since.

I painted for a few moments while Hung continued to stare outside.

“Jeo? You okay?”

He blinked and turned back to me. “Sure, kid.”

I watched as Hung’s face took on its familiar cockiness. “So, what about it? Are you gonna make dinner tonight? You haven’t done much cooking since you’ve been back.”

“I will if you want me to.” I really wasn’t that great of a cook but compared to the rest of the Hedonists, I might as well have been Gordon Ramsay. Most of them could barely boil water without scalding the pot.

“Make that chicken pot pie with all the vegetables,” Hung said.

I smiled. “Okay.” Most of that recipe was from a can, but I had to admit it was pretty good.

Scooting to the edge of his chair, Hung examined my painting. “Who is that?”

I studied the pale figure lying on a bed, face turned toward an open window, red hair burning like fire in the sunlight. “Someone I met in Nevada.”

“You went all the way to Nevada?”

“I went all over.”

Hung’s expression turned dark. “Fucking Cane really messed with your mind.”

I wasn’t sure if he meant Cane was a fucker or that literally the act of fucking Cane had messed with my mind. I wasn’t going to ask. Everyone knew we’d fucked on film—it was the off film time they didn’t know about.

“I just needed some time away. It had nothing to do with Cane.”

Hung looked dubious.

I sighed. “I told you before; we just don’t get along, okay?”

“You get along with everyone.”

Irritated, I turned on him. “Ever thought you don’t know everything about everyone, Jeo?”

“No.” He smiled widely, and I relaxed. “Come to The Yellow Banana with me tonight.”

The Yellow Banana was a gay club in downtown Brooklyn where Axel worked as a bartender and Lake as a server. I’d been meaning to go since I got back but hadn’t as of yet. Clubs weren’t really my thing, but I did like to dance.

“Okay. After the chicken pot pie,” I said and turned back to my painting.

Hung grinned and ruffled my hair, making me scowl and push his hand away.

 

****

As I’d anticipated, The Yellow Banana was packed, loud, and a major sensory overload. I balked the moment I walked in the door, but Hung grabbed me by the hand and pulled me after him. He flirted all the way to the bar with me in tow, like I was his kid or something.

“Shit,” he swore.

“What?” I stopped and looked up at him, and then let out a yelp when someone goosed me. I turned to give whoever it was a tongue lashing and had to bend my neck in order to look up at the giant. He gave me a lascivious grin, a gold tooth flashing in front. I swallowed hard, realizing engaging with the man in any way would be a mistake, and hightailed it around Hung to nab a seat at the bar.

Axel grinned at me. “Tony, you finally made it.”

“Yep, I came to see you, handsome.” I loved watching Axel blush. He was such a big, burly guy, but inside he was a kitten.

“Don’t let Caleb hear you talking that way. He’s the jealous type,” Axel joked.

When I’d returned from my sabbatical and found Axel was with Caleb, I’d been surprised but pleased. Caleb had a lot of issues due to the trauma he’d been through, but Axel’s careful patience around him had paid off. They seemed good together.

“Give me a vodka on the rocks,” Hung said over my shoulder.

“I’ll have a beer,” I said, my eyes roaming the area. I froze when I met an ice blue pair across the bar.

Well, fuck.

Cane looked casual and hot as hell in dress slacks and a mint green button-down shirt opened at the neck to reveal the dark hair on his broad chest. He sported the day’s stubble on his chin and upper lip and frankly looked good enough to eat.

“Sorry, buddy,” Hung whispered in my ear. “I swear I didn’t know he’d be here.”

I shrugged and quickly looked away. “Don’t be dumb. It’s fine.”

Axel slid me my beer, and I took a long drink from the bottle, the cold brew welcome as I was suddenly very hot.

“You wanna leave?” Hung asked.

“No! Cut it out, Jeo.”

Hung squeezed my shoulder. “Good because you need to get out and live a little. Find you a nice cock to sit on.”

I sipped my beer. “Sex doesn’t solve everything, you know.”

A strange guy on my left said, “No, but it sure can help,” and winked at me.

“Get lost, Johnson,” Hung growled at him. “I know that guy. He’ll steal you’re wallet first chance he gets,” he said after the man had walked away. “Hey, why don’t you dance a little?”

I looked out at the writhing bodies on the dance floor then turned back to my drink. “I will. In a minute.”

A big hand on my shoulder had me twisting around, only to find the giant with the gold tooth looking down at me like I was a tasty morsel he was dying to get into his mouth.

“You and me. Dance,” the guy grunted out like a Tarzan wannabe or maybe a caveman. All he needed was a club to knock me out with.

I was about to say no thanks when Hung pulled my beer out of my hand and shoved me toward the guy.

“He’d love to.”

I darted a threatening look at Hung, who only winked and said, “Trust your Uncle Jeo.”

I wanted to say “Uncle Jeo” would be the last person I’d trust when it came to choosing a partner, but the guy was already dragging me to the dance floor where he pressed me to his huge chest and began moving his hips in circles against my abs.

“Hey,” I said, pulling away a couple of inches. “This isn’t Dirty Dancing, and you’re definitely not Patrick Swayze.” Wrapping my arms loosely around his shoulders, I went began moving to the music, enjoying myself more and more as the song went on in spite of the way my partner watched me like he was waiting for the right time to pounce. Hung had been right when he’d said I needed to let loose. I loved to dance, and they were playing songs I liked, one right after the other. I danced three more songs with the caveman, then I smiled and thanked him, feeling his intense and hungry gaze on me all the way back to the bar.

Cane was nowhere in sight, not that I cared. I wondered if he’d gone home or was dancing on the other side of the club where I couldn’t see him. The thought of him with his arms around someone else drove me crazy.

I finished my beer and ordered another. And another, chatting with Axel between customers. Every time I scanned the dance floor for Hung, I spotted him with a different partner. Currently, he was wedged between a slim African-American guy who was practically dry-humping him and a short, beefy man with the name Kyle tatted on his shoulder.

“He come here a lot?” I asked Axel when he brought me another cold beer.

“Who, Hung? Naw. Haven’t seen him in a while. Not even at the clubhouse. I’m not there much anymore, though.”

I turned away from the dance floor to face him, a nice buzz building from the beer. “Living with Caleb going well?”

Axel grinned and nodded. “Real well. How ‘bout you? You seeing anyone?”

I scoffed. “I think you know I’m not. I haven’t been home long.”

Axel leaned forward. “You should be. It’s nice seeing you having a good time.”

I drank my beer, face heated from both the alcohol and the dancing. My T-shirt was sweat-soaked and clung to my chest. As I rested, I looked for my next dance partner, gaze skipping over several hulking forms to settle on a twink with short pink hair that matched his tight, sparkly shirt. The guy looked like someone I could relax and have a good time with, so I gulped down the last of my beer and got off the stool, swaying just a little before I set off in his direction.

The twink in pink was chatting with a friend, and I pressed in behind him and spoke in his ear.

“Wanna dance?”

Pinky looked over his shoulder, hazel eyes giving me the once over, and smiled.

“Love to.”

I took his hand and led him through the throng. It seemed Pinky liked to dance as much as I did, and before long we were moving without inhibition. I didn’t mind rubbing up against someone who didn’t appear focused on bending me over something, so I let myself go. Six songs in, we stopped, rested, drank beer, and then got up and danced some more. Pinky’s name was actually Aaron. Or Baron. Or maybe it was Darren? The club had taken on that weird, underwater quality places got when I’d had too much to drink.

“I gotta take a piss,” I said as the song changed yet again, and Pinky nodded and moved so he was dancing with the guy nearest him. I picked my way through the crowd toward the lit sign in the back. All those beers had my bladder screaming to be emptied.

When I’d finished and washed up, I tried to fix my hair but had to lean in close to the mirror in order to see because my face was swimming before me. A couple of guys were banging in one of the stalls, shaking the door with such force I thought it was going to come off. I grinned at my reflection, officially smashed, and started for the exit. Suddenly, the giant from earlier in the night loomed in front of me.

“Hey, baby boy. I’ve been looking for you. Wanted another dance.”

The goofy grin from a moment ago spread over my face again. “Hiya.”

The big guy didn’t seem so intimidating in the harsh light of the bathroom. “You’re the caveman.”

He flashed his gold tooth in a smile and nudged me backward until my butt pressed against the sink. “I’ll be whoever you want. Right now, I’d like to be the guy with his mouth around your dick.”

Blood rushed south, making me hard and thick in my jeans despite the amount of alcohol I’d consumed. What he was proposing didn’t sound like a bad idea at all. I licked my lips, and then the hulk was kneeling in front of me, fingers working at the button of my jeans. The fact that anyone could walk in and see us at any moment didn’t matter one iota to my drunken brain as I anticipated the feel of a warm mouth around my cock.